Mark My Words
by HecateA
Summary: Grindelwald had to pick up the phrase 'for the Greater Good' somewhere, or from someone. Oneshot. Written for the House Competition, Round 4 Standard. MC4 submission.


**Legal disclaimer:** The following characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and this story derives from her original works, storylines, and world. Please do not sue me, I can barely pay tuition.

**Warning:** This is about Dumbledore's involvement with Grindelwald, and his manipulative streak. Mentions to Ariana Dumbledore's canon health and wellness are present, as well as Percival Dumbledore's crimes.

**Author's note:** My inner history major was happy at the historicality of this round's prompts, and two things that stuck out about turn-of-the-century England (though unrepresentative of world events as a whole): Oscar Wilde publishing _The Picture of Dorian Grey_ and Jack the Ripper terrorizing London in 1888, the latter I decided to run with. Enjoy!

**Thank you for the proofing/beta/feedback/general encouragement:** Aya, Trish, Crissie

* * *

**House:** Hufflepuff

**Role:** Player (Second Year)

**Category:** Round 4, Standard

**Prompt:** [Era] Dumbledore's school Era

**Additional requirement:** Prompts cannot be repeated (within the same house).

**Word Count:** 1987

**Stacked with:** Hogwarts House Cup, Spring Bingo

**Individual Challenge(s):** Short Jog; Gryffindor MC (x1, Y); Yellow Ribbon; Yellow Ribbon Redux; Tiny Terror; Brush; Fortress; Old Flames; Seeds; Winter Wonderland; Booger Breath

**Word Count:** 1987

_**Spring Bingo entry information:**_

**Space Address:** 4A

**Prompt:** Union/Covenant

* * *

**Mark My Words**

Silence fell over the Great Hall when Albus' name was read. _Dumbledore._ Whispers ran through the crowd.

"That's him."

"He's his son."

"That wizard who pulled Muggles apart in London—Jack the Ripper!"

"Don't be stupid!"

"No, it is! I read in The Prophet, he's in Azkaban now. Did you hear what he did to those Muggles in Mould-on-the-Wold?"

Albus took his seat on the stool.

"Hmm," the hat said quietly.

"Please be quick," Albus whispered. "They're already talking."

"They won't stop. Do you have the courage it will take to face that with dignity and kindness?"

"I hope so," Albus whispered.

_"Gryffindor!"_

* * *

"Mum's going to kill you," Albus hadn't been expecting anybody to meet him at the platform, but was happy to see Abe. He wore his Sunday best, which showed his ankles and wrists since he'd grown so much since September. His hair was peppered with snowflakes.

Aberforth shrugged. "I didn't want you coming home alone."

Albus was strangely touched, but would never say so.

"Ariana won't mind you being gone? How is she? Has Mum been lying in her letters?"

"I told her," Aberforth said. "She still understands what's going on around her. She's… she's going to get better."

Elphias appeared out of the crowd, calling his name and dragging his father behind him.

"Albus," Elphias said. "This is my father. Dad, Albus."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Mr. Doge said, shaking his hand.

"The pleasure is mine," Albus said. _Strong. Make your handshakes strong._ His father had said that once. "This is my little brother, Aberforth."

Aberforth shook Mr. Doge's hand, squeezing his fingers. He must have remembered Dad's words too.

"Are you two boys alone?"

"No sir," Albus lied immediately. "Our mother is just waiting outside the station; she doesn't like crowds."

"Dad, Albus and I are in Gryffindor together," Elphias said. "The Dumbledores have been in Gryffindor for _generations_."

Albus realized that Elphias must have always simply referred to him as _Albus_ in letters home based off of the shadow that passed over M. Doge's face at the sound of his last name.

He realized that Aberforth wouldn't take to that look so calmly.

"We should go," Albus said, grabbing Abe's arm. "Happy Christmas, Elphias."

"Happy Christmas," Elphias nodded. "I'll see you in the New Year."

Albus hauled Aberforth away.

"Is that what you've been doing?" Abe hissed. "Pretending Dad's not real to blend in? I don't want to go to school next year if it makes you like that."

"No, you do," Albus said. "Abe, it was amazing! The castle is so beautiful. If you're quiet enough, it makes all these noises when the staircases move, and the ghosts whisper to each other… I'll tell you all about it on the trip home."

"I got a ride from Mr Sawyer. You know that Muggle farmer whose wife makes all those jams?" Aberforth said. "He told me to meet him at the Christmas market and he'd drive us home, too. Come on!"

* * *

Ariana hadn't let go of his arm all day, even during dinner. Albus had offered to bring her down to the creek, one of her favourite spots, before dark. They could throw pebbles to test the sheet of ice covering the water, make snow angels, collect pine branches to decorate for the holidays… But Mum had given him a strict look that said no, and Ariana had seemed so unphased by it that he wondered how often she'd actually left the house in the last months...

Instead, she dragged Albus to the blanket fort she'd put up in the cellar, setting up a small and safe place. Without realizing it, she showed him the same pictures and told him the same five stories again and again and again. It wasn't her fault, but it worried him and taxed his patience and excitement about being home to see her like this. He'd… he'd forgotten how it was, for her.

* * *

After reading up on non-magical injuries in the Hogwarts library, he'd expected his sister to be better by now, at least a little bit. If anything, she seemed worse. She seemed more lost, smaller, confused, shy… This was not what he had expected to come home to this Christmas.

He was short on patience when Mum came to sit by the fire with him after the other two had gone to sleep—even thinking about that got under his skin. He was sure that Abe would spend the night hogging their blankets and squirming around their shared bed. He was so wound-up with pent-up annoyances that couldn't really be directed at anybody that when Mum reached out and brushed her hand through his hair, he jerked away.

"Albus?" she asked quietly.

"You didn't tell me," he said. "You didn't tell me that people would know so much about Dad."

Mum breathed in deeply. She looked tired—her hair wasn't as clean and neatly braided as she used to keep it, and there were lines around her face that Albus had never seen before. She was nearly a different person. She was not the proud, composed mother Albus had left, nor was Aberforth the same brother he'd said goodbye to in September, nor was Ariana the sister he'd known. Everything had changed and fallen apart while he'd been gone, but there was Mum, thinking she could brush his hair and sweep it all away.

"They say things about him, Mum. So many things."

"People talk, Albus. It's not so different at Hogwarts than in the village square, nor is it truer."

"I was sorted into Gryffindor," Albus said, puffing out his chest.

"I know," Mum said. "I read every letter you wrote twice to myself before reading them to everyone at breakfast. I'm so, so proud."

"If I'm really a Gryffindor I should be brave," Albus told her. "I should be loyal to Dad. I don't understand how you can pretend that he attacked those Muggles for no reason, but I don't want to. And imagine what kind of help we could get for Ariana if a Healer knew, Mum. She's getting worse..."

"Enough," Mum snapped. "You went to school for four months Albus, you haven't lived a lifetime."

"Mum, I don't want people to get away with saying things," Albus insisted. "You told us yourself that you didn't like what he did, but didn't blame him. Everyone thinks he's a—a freak, a madman, a murderer! Jack the Ripper! What do you think they say about you and me and Abe, after that?"

"Stop," Mum said.

She knelt before him, putting her hands on his knees.

"I'm sorry, if that's what your first term was like. But that can change. There's always going to be tomorrow," she said. "As for lying about your father… You must have read a lot while you were at Hogwarts. Anything about magical injuries?"

He hesitated, but nodded.

"Clever boy," Mum said. "I'm glad you did. I'm glad you're so curious. But you need to know that Healers write differently than they behave. If one saw Ariana, they'd bring her to St. Mungo's, lock her in a room somewhere, and we… we would probably never see her again. We would lose her."

"She needs help, Mum," Albus said.

"Help nobody can give. She also needs her family and all the love we can give her, and this is one of the ways to do it," Mum said. "I know that you don't like feeling like you're lying about your father, but he chose this—for you, for Ari, for this family."

"Lying is wrong," Albus said weakly.

"It's not a lie," Mum said holding his hands tightly. "It's our secret."

"What's the difference?" Albus asked meekly.

"Secrets aren't all bad," Mum said. "Sometimes you need them. Sometimes the hurt of keeping one is less than the pain you'd cause with the truth. That's why we're doing this, Albus, for our family, for Ari. It's for the greater good. You understand that, don't you, clever boy?"

Albus hesitated.

"We're doing something bad, but it is better than the other bad things that might happen instead," Albus repeated, testing her words in his mouth.

"Exactly," Mum nodded. "We have to let them say what they'll say about your father for the greater good of our family."

* * *

He scratched the back of his head with his quill and, realizing that he'd gotten ink all over himself, swore under his breath. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and straightened up in his seat, though of course once he was awake enough to focus, he circled back to his mother's last letter.

Every since the news had reached them from Azkaban, Mum was struggling to keep afloat. To make matters worse, Ariana was getting stronger—or at least her magic was. Every letter worried him, and sometimes he wondered who Mum thought she was writing to, exactly. She wrote things that Albus… that Albus shouldn't know. Things he didn't know how to react to and couldn't do anything about.

_I wish there had been a funeral. Something for this family to bury. I wish he hadn't died behind those bars, so far away. I had to tell Ariana the truth yesterday; she overheard the radio. She's been inconsolable all week. She cries. I didn't even know she remembered him at all._

As he had a thousand times, Albus put the letter back between the pages of a book and pretended it was out of sight, out of mind while his stomach churned. What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to reach out from so far away? How could they explain this to Ariana when they'd spent so long hiding the truth from her? On that note, how were they supposed to mourn a murderer they'd supposedly shunned years ago?

Albus caught himself reaching for the letter, and left it alone. He chewed the inside of his cheek raw thinking it over. His mother, such an able liar, was overwhelming him with truth now, and he didn't know what to do. In the absence of a more intelligent or productive option, he couldn't help but get angry. _For the greater good_, Mum had promised. Well: who was it doing good to now?

* * *

The words left Albus' lips so naturally as 'I love you' did. They'd been hanging there for years, after all. They were all in a day's work. But when he said them, Gellert perked up.

"'The greater good,'" Gellert nodded. "Those are powerful words, Albus. I like that."

* * *

Gellert woke up in his cell in Nurmengard slowly and lazily as Albus had watched him wake up a thousand times before. He'd sworn that he would be there this time; that he would see Grindelwald's face when he realized that he'd lost the duel, that he could finally bury this once and for all…

Grindelwald tried to get up, but invisible bonds pulled him to the ground.

"They'll give you more rope once they finish building your prison," Albus said. "They'll take it back if you don't behave, the Aurors said."

Grindelwald snickered.

"Cooperating with Aurors, now? With the very orchestrators of the system you once swore to undo brick by brick. You've strayed so far, my old friend."

"Don't call me that," Albus said.

"Do you feel cheated by the term's simplicity?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

There was a beat. Albus couldn't help but feel as if he couldn't look away from Grindelwald the same way bystanders couldn't look away from a crime scene.

"What happened to the Greater Good, my friend?" Grindelwald asked.

"You twisted my words," Albus said.

"Did I really?" Grindelwald said, coyly tilting his head to the side.

* * *

Albus found himself alone with the sorting hat before this year's ceremony.

"Tell me," Albus asked it. "Was putting me in Gryffindor a mistake?"

"Being honest with oneself is a form of courage," the hat replied simply.


End file.
